No Man Wants A Wife Who Cannot Cook
by Yogaduck
Summary: 'No man wants a wife who cannot cook' she thought she had successfully suppressed her mother's cruel words over the years. Perhaps not.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi guys yogaduck here. Been a devoted fan of these two for years and I've finally got around to publishing some of the little fics I've written. This is my first time publishing a fic so please be nice! But of course constructive criticism is always welcome :) reviews would be amazing xox**

Her eyes filled with tears as she turned her face away from him, resolutely looking at the pattern on the table cloth. He could be so cruel. All she'd wanted was to make him happy. To cook for him, to look after him.

He sceptically hummed as he further inspected his plate that she'd laid before him. The tears were almost spilling over but she willed them not to break through. She suddenly wasn't hungry. She felt an emptiness settle upon her.

She recalled her mother's cruel words spoken to her as a young girl, 'You will never be good enough. No man wants a wife who cannot cook.'

This was enough to send the tears down her cheeks like a river breaking free from a dam. She stood up quickly turning her face away from him so he couldn't see her tears and murmured something about not being hungry, before scurrying off to start on the dishes.

She knew it was impossible to avoid him for long but she didn't want to let him see how much he had upset her. He deserved a wife who can cook well and he had every right to be less than satisfied. She just wasn't good enough. But she had to be good enough. Good enough for him. So she promised herself she would request help from Beryl and try her hardest to produce something edible.

She wasn't angry he didn't like the food. How could he? Even she would admit it was hardly palatable. She was more angry at herself for only proving her mother right all these years later.

Once in the kitchen she let her tears flow freely. She clasped a hand to her mouth to prevent her sobs being audible as her shoulders silently rocked. She didn't deserve him. He deserved better. She briefly wondered whether Alice would have been better at cooking, but cast the thought away as a sharp pain grasped her heart at the memory of his other love.

Her hand was still clasped firmly over her mouth whilst the other gripped the edge of the kitchen table for support. She lowered her head in an effort to prevent further sobs, but to no avail. They just kept coming. All the built up hurt from hearing her own mother commend her so harshly had all been brought to reality. She told herself for years that she wasn't that bad and that her mother was merely exaggerating. She had even thought it would never be put to the test. That she would never marry. But she did. To the dearest, sweetest man.

Whom she did not deserve.

 **Too short? Should I continue with this or leave it as a one shot? Tell me what you think, there can always be more chapters if you like it xox**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter :) I couldn't stop grinning! I never thought that you would all like it so much! You have certainly encouraged me to keep writing :)**

He could hear her start to clean the dishes in the kitchen. There was the distant sound of plates clinking together and the sound of running water.

Looking back down at his plate he shuffled the food around for the thousandth time willing himself to at least attempt to eat a mouthful more. But he could not. He set his knife and fork down on the plate in frustration. He'd been looking forward to their meal together. A chance for both of them to get away from the house for a while. Just the two of them, in their own cottage. His heart swelled at that thought as it was their cottage, both of theirs, and they owned it together. Something he found himself still struggling to believe.

But his thoughts were brought back to the present moment when his stomach made a gurgle of dissatisfaction. Alerting him to the fact that he was still very hungry.

He so wished this evening had gone differently. Maybe he should have assisted her in the kitchen? But he didn't want to get in her way or imply she was not capable. Perhaps he could mention to Mrs Patmore that she could use some guidance when it came to cooking. Yes. That would be best. He wanted to avoid speaking about it to her directly for fear of offending her.

Having come to some sort of conclusion as to how he would resolve the matter, he stood up from the table, picked up his plate and made his way to the kitchen.

* * *

Upon entering the kitchen he saw his wife at the sink, her back to him, scrubbing furiously at a rather black, burnt looking pan.

He subtly disposed of the remainder of his meal before turning back and picking up a dishcloth and beginning to dry some of the dishes. She would not look at him. Whenever he drew nearer the sink to dry a new plate or piece of cutlery she would ensure the back of her head was all he could see.

When she left the dining room he had assumed it was out of embarrassment. She hardly touched her food either and he had waited a while to allow her some space before following her to the kitchen. Her speedy departure from the table certainly showed she didn't want to talk about it.

He didn't like the tension in the room. They worked in utter silence. The atmosphere was becoming unbearable.

He cleared his throat. He was unsure how to approach this situation, was she turning away because she didn't want him to see her blush with embarrassment...? Or was he merely imagining it?

Without warning she turned away from the sink dried her hands on her apron and an all but ran from the kitchen in the direction of the sitting room.

He let out a long breath. He was certain now that she was more than embarrassed.

He finished drying up the dishes and with each plate and glass he placed back in their rightful place he promised himself that he would not let this atmosphere linger. He would sort this out tonight whether she wanted to or not.

 **Hello again :) another update which I hope you will enjoy. Thank you so much to everyone for the amazing reviews, you have all been so lovely! I will try to continue to update regularly as I think this will go on for a few more chapters. Tell me what you think?I can't promise that it will be as regular as everyday as I am rather busy! Love to all xox**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it has been so long guys! It has been a rather crazy week and I just haven't had time, anyone who comes from the UK or who understand the British system will understand that A levels are rather stressful. But no assignment is more important than these two cuties. I couldn't leave them that long :)**

She tried to look like she was engrossed in the book in front of her, when really she hadn't even read the title. She merely grabbed the first book that came to hand in a desperate attempt to look busy and not in the mood to talk.

She could still hear him pottering about the kitchen. She knew he had seen her avoiding showing him her face.

She sighed. She so wished that things could be different, less complicated. Why couldn't she just turn back the clock? She could have asked Mrs Patmore to show her how to cook a simple yet delicious meal, but no, her pride had won that battle and she refused to accept that she needed help. Damn her stubborn pride.

She couldn't tell if it was that the cottage was a little cold or whether it was her crippling anxiousness that caused her hands to shake. She strengthened her grip on the book before deciding it must be the chill and standing to light a fire. At least with this task it would be easier to keep on concealing her face. She had to be certain that there was no trace of the tears that had fallen not half an hour ago. She didn't want to have to explain how deeply this had hurt her.

She didn't know how long she could keep ignoring him but she knew he would become impatient soon enough. He never did like it when they were in disagreement.

The scene flashed before her eyes at that thought. A scene that had played over and over in her head at night.

...'and...there's a bonus...'

'What's that?'...

'It puts us back in agreement Mrs Hughes. I'm not comfortable when you and I are not in agreement.'

'You're very flattering... when you talk like that you make me want to check the looking glass to check that my hairs tidy...'

'Get away with you'

'... no I mean it...'

The scene faded before her and more tears threatened but she blinked furiously in an effort to dispel them. He mustn't see me cry.

He entered the room as she was forming the fire, setting the kindling into a stack, trying desperately to stop her hands from shaking that visibly. He coughed slightly, 'Ghmm..hmmm..' her back was to him but she could feel him pulling the ends of his waistcoat down nervously. She slowed her movements.

'...Thank you for dinner... it was...ghmm..hmm... very good' he said a little hesitantly.

'No it wasn't...' she said in a small strained voice that was just above a whisper. She still wasn't facing him. She picked up another piece of kindling. In some ways it hurt even more knowing that he was forced to lie about the meal, only confirming her fears that she had disappointed him.

He drew a breath as if he was about to say something, but she spoke again before he could, 'Please don't lie to me Charles...' her voice broke as she said his name and she dropped the piece of kindling. She held her breath to try and stop a sob escaping and clasped her hand to her mouth again, turning her head away even more.

When he spoke his voice was quieter, 'I apologise, I only wished to save you any embarrassment... if that is indeed why you are acting this way...' he coughed. 'Perhaps you could talk to Mrs Patmore I'm sure she would be willing to offer some advice... there's no shame in it. Lord knows I wouldn't know where to start if I had to cook a meal...' his breaths came out short in an attempt to chuckle but he couldn't quite manage it with such an atmosphere in the room.

She sniffed and he stepped forward and knelt beside her. She turned her face away again. Her shoulders slowly started to tremble as her emotions refused to be suppressed any longer. There was a beat where she felt him freeze with surprise but the next second she felt his strong arms wrap around her tiny frame and turn her in his arms to face him. She let the sobs flow freely now. Every last ounce of built up hurt, anger, self doubt and toxic disappointment in herself seemed to flow out of her as she felt his arms hold her tight, her face buried in his chest. She felt him press a kiss to her hair and she let out a long sigh.

She pulled back but remained in his arms, still not quite having the courage to meet his eyes, she looked down and focused her gaze on one of the buttons on his waistcoat. Gently he took her face in his hands and forced her to look into his eyes.

The strong emotion she saw in them made her gasp and then sigh into his touch. His eyes reflected everything he could not say in that delicate moment. Of exactly how much he loved her.

'My dearest,' he whispered as her eyes floated downwards again.

She took a deep breath as that cold harsh voice crept into her mind again... 'You will never be enough'... new tears formed and she heard Charles hushing her. 'No... no more tears my love.'

She had to tell him or else this would haunt her forever. Her voice was still small and tight when she spoke, 'Charles... you should know... wwhen' her voice wobbled but she closed her eyes and took a breath 'when I was no more than 12 my mother decided that I was good for nothing, and she didn't waste anytime deceiving me.' She paused, gulped and continued 'She told me exactly how useless I was, I could not cook even the simplest of dishes without something going wrong. She told me bluntly, I would never marry, 'No man wants a wife that cannot cook' she quoted, her voice sounding even smaller as she spoke the words. She sniffed 'But I was determined to prove I was good at something,' she smiled weakly, 'So I went into service. I may not have been a good cook but at least I knew how to be a maid. I suppressed her words over the years, telling myself that they weren't true. I was almost convinced that they would never be put to the test...' she looked up into his eyes, seeing only love and devotion shining back at her, 'But when I married you it wasn't long before her words began to haunt me again. I was scared. Suddenly realising that those words were nothing but the truth.' She looked down again. 'I don't deserve you Charles Carson...' she murmured as fresh tears filled her eyes.

 **Thoughts? It may have been a bit rushed,sorry :/ I didn't get time to further edit it. But I thought I should post it to stop you guys from wondering what happens next to these two. Hope you enjoy it and remember reviews make my day! :)**


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